


Panic

by PrinceJai



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Alan needs a hug too, Alan whump, Drowning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Gen, Gordon needs a hug, Gordon whump, Hurt/Comfort, Panic, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 16:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16099511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceJai/pseuds/PrinceJai
Summary: The Terrible Two get caught in a storm.Cross posted on FanFiction and AO3.





	Panic

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen any Thunderbirds Are Go episodes after "Legacy", so please no spoilers. Anyways, have some Gordon and Alan whump and a healthy dose of panic.

Crow’s Nest is hardly more than some rocks, sand and two palm trees two miles East of Tracy Island. Gordon and Alan frequent the islet since they first discovered it when they were little. They would play pirates or survival island. Turning sixteen and nineteen had done nothing to discourage their games.

It was during one such trip when Scott contacted them, telling them there was a storm approaching. A fast, nasty storm. Alan was disappointed they had to leave early, but seeing the dark clouds rolling in changed his mind. Both he and John shared a dislike for storms.

 

* * *

 

Scott was right; the storm is moving fast. The two boys are hardly more than a mile out when the first sheet of rain hits them. Gordon squints against the wind driven rain as he tries in vain to see the sandbars and jagged rocks that he knows are between Crow’s Nest and Tracy Island. Behind him, Alan is bailing water out of their too small boat. Definitely should have taken Thunderbird Four Gordon thinks. Angry waves carry the boat up before dropping it down roughly, prompting Gordon to tighten his grip on the wheel until his knuckles turn white. They’re coming off one such wave when the shriek of metal and fiberglass tearing momentarily matches the howling wind.

The next moment is a flurry of motion and noise. Sharp rocks rip through the small boat sending splinters of fiberglass and mangled parts up in a spray of debris and saltwater. Tendrils of lightning race across the dark skies, illuminating the destruction.

Gordon feels himself fly through the air, head over heels before hitting the water hard which snaps his head back and knocks the breath out of him. Saltwater, dark and burning, pushes its way into his nose, mouth, throat, expelling all oxygen. Years of training battle against panic as Gordon realizes he is sinking. Nauseating pain crawls up his left leg as the Olympic swimmer tries to propel himself in the direction he prays is up. The frigid temperature the ocean has taken on is numbing his body and Gordon is dimly disturbed he finds that welcoming. There’s a darkness edging into view or maybe that’s just the depths coming closer. A sudden thought makes Gordon’s eyes go wide- Alan.

The aquanaut kicks his legs weakly though he is doing his hardest to make them strong movements. Burning and freezing fluctuate in and out of his body as Gordon claws his way to the surface. His head breaks long enough for him to inhale sharply before he’s dragged back under. Despite his attempts to keep from sinking, the currents are strong and he isn’t, but he has to try. Alan could be hurt too. The idea urges Gordon to make another attempt towards the surface and he is rewarded as a chunk of fiberglass sweeps past him. The second youngest Tracy clings to the debris, coughing up hot salt water as his lungs make room for much needed oxygen.

 

“Alan!” Gordon tries to scream, instead it comes out weak and the wind easily carries it away. Gasping in enough air, he tries again.

“Alan!” It comes out louder, higher, and sends him into a coughing fit that threatens to leave him unconscious. Lightning flashes starkly across the storm clouds, brightening the world around him. Gordon whips his head in every direction he can in that split second. There! Just a few feet from him Alan is half draped over a rock that is scarcely above the water.

“Alan!” Gordon shouts loud as his lungs will allow. He can’t tell if his little brother hears him or not, everything is too dark without the lightning. For a moment Gordon feels relief when another bolt of lightning allows him to see, then the feeling is gone with the light. Alan isn’t on the rock.

 

Without a second thought, Gordon is diving down into the depths he had barely escaped a few minutes ago. He can’t really see anything, it’s all shades of greys and blacks. A moment later Gordon bumps into something small and distinctly human. His leg is burning despite the cold water, his chest is too tight and everything is much darker than it was before. Yet, Gordon slips his arms around his baby brother and wills his legs to move.

They reach the surface in time to be plunged back under by a large wave and Gordon makes the mistake of inhaling when he looses his grip on Alan. His body instantly rebels against everything he’s trying to tell it and no amount of big brother responsibility is going to change it. There’s water all around, forcing its way into his body once more. Gordon can’t help to feel betrayed- the ocean was his safe place, his home almost. Not now. Now it’s drowning him. It’s killing his only little brother.

 

And there’s nothing he can do…  
He’s loosing consciousness when there’s something solid under his feet and Gordon forces his feet to push against it. Suddenly, there’s air instead of water, but he still can’t breathe. A wave slams his back into a sharp and unforgiving surface, though the pain is worth it as the force helps jolt his body. Nasty, hot salt water is surging back out his body and it’s worse than the first time. When he is able to breathe again, Gordon realizes his shirt is caught on a rock, keeping him suspended just above the water.

 

A stroke of dumb luck saved him from drowning.

But, what about Alan?

 

“Allie.” Gordon breathes. He has to save him. He has to.  
Third times the charm as Gordon dives back into the merciless waters. His bright yellow shirt is in shreds now, hardly clinging to his body and there is a faint stinging across his shoulders. Weakened lungs force him up. He feel like he’s going through the washmachine on the fastest cycle.

“Alan!” Gordon screams, though it costs him too much oxygen. The rain is still coming down hard, the thunder, the waves, the wind- it’s all too loud, too close. Greyed out blues and blacks are swirling in every direction and he doesn’t know where Alan is. Reason rages with denial as Gordon thinks he’s too late, Alan’s dead, drowned and there’s nothing he can do after all.

His chest restricts painfully to the point Gordon isn’t sure if he is above or below the water. Frighteningly, he doesn’t care. All that matters is Alan. Panic, fear, and frustration rip a strangled cry from Gordon before he dips below in a last ditch effort to find Alan. Lightning pierces the darkness enough Gordon can make out sinking parts of the boat and a dark form straight ahead. The pain in his leg seizes up his left leg, leaving him with less than half the strength he needs to swim.

His fingers brush against wet fabric and he claws at it, unable to get his fingers to cooperate. It’s several panic and pain infused seconds later when Gordon surfaces once more; Alan’s limp body pushing him down. Gordon’s leg is extra dead weight and he has to tilt his head back to keep his nose from going under. He can’t do this much longer and he’s scared out of his wits Alan is so cold and still against him. The logical part of his brain informs him Alan was under too long, but Gordon can’t, won’t accept that.

 

A bright light cuts through the rain and sea spray. The roaring of Thunderbird Two’s engines is unmistakable. Gordon feels like crying with joy and lets out a choked ‘yippy!’  
It’s then that a wave sends a large piece of their broken boat crashing into Gordon’s head.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“… ordon… Gordon!”  
He can’t breathe. There’s water everywhere, it’s hot and filling, burning his throat. Then, he is on his side and the water is spilling out of his mouth. Gordon gags on the water being dispelled as his body trembles and convulses. Warm, strong hands catch his body when he sags.

“Gordon? Can you hear me?” It’s Scott’s voice, panicked and higher than Gordon has heard it in awhile. Scott… wait, where was Alan?

Gordon tries to sit up, only to end up coughing until he’s gagging and gasping. A flurry of motion happens beside him before something is placed over his nose and mouth. A part of his mind registers it’s just a oxygen mask, but the more present part of his mind panics and he has to tell Scott Alan needs help.

 

“Gordon, calm down. You’re alright, it’s okay.” Scott says, appearing over him, blurred and wavy.

“Alan.” Gordon chokes out, “Wher- Allie. He-”  
It’s far as he gets before he’s back to choking on nothing. Scott seems to understand though and runs a hand through Gordon soaked hair.

“It’s okay. Virgil has him.”

Gordon can hear machines somewhere above the familiar rumbling of engines and he cranes his neck to see around Scott. His eldest brother isn’t having it and moves slightly, but that doesn’t stop Gordon from hearing.

“Scott! He’s crashing!”

A machine hits a note and stays on it. Gordon thinks his heart might match it as well because when Scott moves he can clearly see Alan. It’s definitely not okay. He doesn’t remember moving, but there are hands pushing him back down. It hurts, he can’t breathe and neither is Alan. There’s blue and auburn hair swimming in his vision and Gordon swears it’s John. Dimly, he thinks that can’t be because John is in space before everything fades to dark.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Gordon wakes he’s in the infirmary on Tracy Island. It takes him a moment to come to that conclusion and another moment to remember Alan. A machine by his head starts to beep faster until Gordon realizes there’s blond, auburn, brown and black filling up his vision. Relief sinks him back on the bed as he sees Alan laying beside him. The teen is paler than John with dark smudges under his eyes and the oxygen mask over his face makes him seem so painfully young. Gordon rests his head against Alan’s as he takes in his surroundings. John and Virgil are both to his left, both holding his hand. They’re asleep; John’s forehead touching Gordon’s shoulder and Virgil with his head and shoulders across Gordon’s stomach. Scott is on the other side, asleep as well, clutching Alan’s hand and Gordon’s right.

The pain decides to register and Gordon stifles a moan. His left leg is in a cast, the skin across his shoulder blades feel too tight and his head is throbbing. He’s sure there’s more, but thankfully he can’t feel anything else. Leaning away from Alan, Gordon notes the bandages wound around both of the boy’s arms and the stitches running from his hairline to brow.

Gordon finds his vision blurred and warm tears spill down his face. He nearly lost his baby brother. They both nearly died. A small, warm hand presses against his cheek and Gordon can see big blue eyes staring up at him.

“S’kay.” Comes Alan’s faint voice behind the oxygen mask. Gordon doesn’t stop the sob that bubbles up. He reclaims his hand from John and Virgil, no doubt waking them, and cups Alan’s face. Gordon gives a watery smile and murmurs an ‘I love you’ into Alan’s soft hair. He can feel the panic, the fear and uncertainty drip away with each tear. His three older brother’s voices are calm and soothing, their touch reassuring.

 

They’re alive. They’re okay, he’s okay. There’s no panic now. Just his brothers and it’s going to be alright.


End file.
